Ex rank talent Awakening: 100% Dodge rate Chapter 317: BATTLING DOUBLE DIGITS II

Greg halted his downward strike midway through the motion, his muscles tensing as he swiftly dodged a brilliant golden blast of energy hurtling toward him, the attack scorching the air with a sizzling hiss.

"I’m not done with you yet," Number 17 snarled coldly, his piercing stare fixed on Greg with unyielding malice, the sting of humiliation from being kicked earlier burning like acid in his veins, demanding brutal repaynt.

Greg ca to a standstill in his adjusted position, his golden eyes scanning the surroundings to realize he was completely encircled by a swarm of Shadow slaves, their dark forms closing in from every angle like a living noose tightening around him.

Opening his mouth wide, he prepared to unleash another torrent of dragon flas, the heat building in his throat like a gathering inferno, but he stopped abruptly, the action cut short by an unexpected shift in the battlefield.

In an instant, the area around him froze solid, the temperature plumting as if winter itself had descended without warning, encasing all the Shadow slaves in a crystalline prison while leaving Greg untouched and unhard amid the sudden chill.

Just as quickly as they had been immobilized, the frozen sculptures of the Shadow slaves shattered explosively into countless tiny crystals of fine dust, sparkling briefly in the dim light before scattering across the courtyard like fragile snowflakes carried on a bitter wind.

"How dare you attack my emperor. And within his own empire, no less," Elizabeth’s serene, soft voice echoed through the frozen aftermath, cutting through the tension with regal authority.

She stood poised like the embodint of an ice queen in the heart of the chaotic battle, her slender sword held effortlessly in one hand, its blade glistening with a faint, frosty sheen that mirrored her unyielding composure.

Number 16 turned his gaze toward Elizabeth, a deep frown creasing his masked features, his posture stiffening with irritation at this unforeseen interference.

She had obliterated the shadow slaves with overwhelming firepower, her icy assault precise and devastating.

By shattering the sculptures into dust, she ensured that the fragile, pea-like cores hidden within would fracture irreparably, preventing any chance of regeneration or revival.

"You are not on our extermination list," Number 16 warned, his voice dripping with condescending advice. "If you value your life, you’ll leave now and spare yourself an unnecessary end."

But Elizabeth paid no heed to the threat, her stance remaining firm and unyielding, her cold expression making it abundantly clear that she had already chosen her side in this confrontation.

Greg glanced at her briefly, fully aware of the deeper implications behind her bold intervention, the silent declaration of loyalty hanging in the air like an unspoken vow.

But he couldn’t afford to dwell on that just yet, his focus sharpening back to the imdiate threats before him.

"Quick question," Greg said casually, deciding to probe for vital information amid the standoff.

"Which of you possesses an absolute concept?" he inquired, his tone even and probing, his golden eyes flicking between the remaining foes.

"Absolute concept? Hmph," Number 16 scoffed coldly, dismissing the query with a sneer. "We don’t need sothing like that to deal with the likes of you."

"I see," Greg replied calmly, a faint hint of satisfaction creeping into his voice as he absorbed the revelation. "Then I guess it’s ti to wrap this up."

Ever since discovering that only those wielding absolute concepts could truly harm him, Greg had adopted a cautious approach, evading every attack with calculated precision to avoid unnecessary risks.

But now, with his opponents foolishly revealing that they lacked such power, he could discard that restraint entirely, unleashing his full might without holding back.

"First, to clean up every last shadow slave infesting my empire," Greg declared coldly, his words laced with finality as he raised his hand.

Through sheer force of will, countless arrows materialized in the air around him, conjured from nothingness in staggering numbers, their tips gleaming with lethal intent under the overcast sky.

"Strike the core of every shadow slave within the empire," he commanded in the resonant dragon’s tongue, infusing the arrows with an almost sentient life as the ancient words echoed with commanding power.

Empowered by his draconic decree, the arrows surged forward as if alive, darting in all directions with unerring accuracy, seeking out their targets across the vast expanse of the empire.

The projectiles radiated outward from Greg as the central point, a deadly wave expanding like ripples in a pond, rcilessly reaping the lives of every shadow slave they encountered in their path.

"Fool," Number 17 mocked with a triumphant sneer, his eyes gleaming at the perceived vulnerability. "Now you’ve completely depleted all your mana with that stunt."

"That’s because I don’t need mana to handle trash like you," Greg responded calmly, his posture relaxed yet radiating an aura of absolute dominance in the dust-laden courtyard.

Opening his mouth once more, he expelled a massive surge of Abyssal flas toward Number 18, the black-and-crimson fire roaring forth like a tidal wave of destruction, devouring the space between them.

Number 18, desperate to counter the oncoming blaze, unleashed a barrage of laser beams from his multitude of glowing eyes, the bright rays lancing out in a frantic attempt to hold back the inferno.

But in the end, his desperate lasers faltered against the overwhelming might of Greg’s Abyssal flas, the dark fire overpowering and engulfing them without rcy.

With death closing in relentlessly, Number 18 opted for the only rational choice left, fleeing for his life, his form blurring as he attempted to escape the flas’ grasp.

But against Greg’s concept of absolute resolution, such evasion proved utterly futile, the flas pursuing with inescapable precision.

With a concept that guaranteed a 100% hit rate while rendering dodge rates obsolete, dodging Greg’s assault was nothing more than a hopeless delusion.

The Abyssal flas fully consud Number 18, reducing him to ashes in a searing embrace that claid his life without remorse, the remnants scattering like embers in the wind.